


99 Problems

by EffingEden



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Brainwashing, Community: comment_fic, Drabble Sequence, Gen, Post-Movie(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 01:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1571723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffingEden/pseuds/EffingEden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winter Soldier has a few problems after the events of the movie...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Problem #1 - The Mission

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nevcolleil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevcolleil/gifts).



> From the comment_fic prompt "99 Problems"

He couldn’t complete his mission. He didn’t know why. It would be easy. Just hold him under the water, then go after the woman. There was so much chaos, it would be so easy, so simple. But if it were so easy, so simple, why couldn’t he do it?

Do it.

Complete the mission.

_Then finish it, ’cause I’m with you till the end of the line._

Those words, those fucking words. They made his guts clench up, like he was being put in deep freeze again. 

He knew his mission.

He _knew_ him. And that... that was a problem.


	2. Problem #2 - The Order

He waited for his orders. His clothes were soaked and he was bleeding. Pain was better than being numb. Pain told him he was awake. 

The house was empty. The sun was rising, turning the sky from indigo to shades of blue he liked ( _hated_ ) the most. He wanted to sleep, but he had to give his report. 

He waited. He had failed his mission. He had failed Hydra. He had to wait for new orders. They would tell him what to do. They would take the thoughts, the memory of blue eyes and give him peace. 

No one came.


	3. Problem #3 - The Pick Up

He left the house of the man who gave order to chaos 24 hours after he had arrived. He walked for a mile. Two. Three. Hunger writhed and gnawed, but he ignored it. His handlers would come soon. A black van, it was always a black van, would pull up and the back would open, and they would take him where he was meant to be. Wherever they wanted him. He wouldn't have to think. Just obey. He could do that.

He knew they would come. They always were there, on the edges of his world. 

He walked. 

And walked.

**Author's Note:**

> I probably won't get to 99, but hope springs eternal. Tags, warning, pairings, etc, subject to change. Major warnings will be noted in the chapter notes.


End file.
